Tom Meets the Cullens
by Patrick JLouis
Summary: Tom Phag moves to Forks, because his hooker mom received a promotion. He meets the beautiful Renesmee Cullen and declares that he is destine to marry her; but she is already with a guy name Jacob. Tom then does everything possible to break them up.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own any of The Twilight Saga books or any if it's character. The only thing I do own, is the character Tom Phag and the rest if his friends and family. So, please don't sue me Stephanie. This story contains mature language and future sexual content. Humor is also added. Read on your OWN caution.

**SUMMARY:**Tom Phag moves to Forks, because his hooker mom was offered a promotion to a new pimp. Life couldn't be anymore boring. Until he meets the mysterious, beautiful Renesmee Cullen. He declares, at first sight, that he is destine to marry her. But she politely denies his offer; telling him that she is already with someone name Jacob. Angry by the rejection, Tom goes to confront Jacob at his house, where he discovers something tragic...both Rosalie and Seth taking turns giving Jacob a BJ. Tom is then place in a challenging situation. Should he tell Renesmee, or blackmail Rosalie into showing him her boastful breast? **P.S. **Takes place 50 years after Eclipse.

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I didn't have time to turn around and walk the opposite way. In a few minutes I would be considered late. Late on my first day. Wouldn't that be an awesome way to start my new school year?

Standing in front of me, was a collection of matching trailer-like houses, built with maroon colored bricks. Next to it, was a small sign, which declared that the building was Forks High School.

If only my senseless mother denied the job promotion, from her ex-boss Big Package, I'd still be in Houston; wearing a V-neck T-shirt with a plaited gray and black shorts. Instead of this dreadful, heavy green winter coat, with brownish yellow faux wool lining the hood, and these thick pair of blue jeans.

I hate the cold. Just like I hated my hooker ass mother. Yes...I said that my mother is a hooker. She was the best hooker in downtown Houston. She had all the rich and important clients. Even made more money a night than most of her expensive clients make a month.

Since my mom had been a hooker way before I was born, I've never felt any disgust into what she does for a living. I look at her job metaphorically. If she has to open her legs to put food and accessories on my body, while I don't have to lift a finger...then keep on doing it.

Selfish, I know. But she never told me who my father was. For all I know, it could have been a client who was too much of a dumbass to remember to put a condom on. I was lucky enough not to be born with something mentally wrong. Ever since the age of seven, I had always been bummed about 'bring your father to school day.' When I decided to finally ask my mother, she never gave me an answer. I then promised myself that I wouldn't obey any of her instructions. I would always be a selfish, rebellious brat, 'till I become old enough to go off on my own.

But my little, bratty plan didn't go as I hoped, because I now resign in a small town name Forks, Washington. It rains on this minuscule town more than any other place in the United States. And it's weird, because all the town's teenagers are wearing regular clothing; as if they pretend it wasn't really raining. While in the school's parking lot, sitting inside my green 2006 ford mustang...I noticed that all the kids were wearing name brands like: Aropostle, Calvin Klien, American Eagle, Dior, Hillfiger, Nautica, and Polo. Looking at my new fellow classmates made me realize that I was horribly dressed. That was why I waited two minutes after the late bell to walk towards the school's small front office.

I slowly trudged unwillingly down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

Inside, it was brightly lit, as if the school wanted to portray themselves as a perfect place to drop your kids off for eight hours. But I solemnly knew that this place was going to be hell. The office was small; a little waiting are with yellow padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, certificates and awards cluttering the left wall, and a big clock ticking way too loudly then it really needed to. Plants were placed everywhere in large plastic pots, as if it wasn't green enough outside. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers taped to it's front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which that had a computer playing a loud action movie. That particular desk was manned by a skinny, blonde-haired woman, who looked like she could have a night job at Hooters. She was wearing a tight purple blouse that showed off her sculpted stomach and paid for breast.

"Yes. Oh yes. That's the spot Jason Statham," the front dest woman said. She was sitting behind the desk with both of her hands in her lap. Her head was bent backwards on the chair; looking up towards the ceiling. I ignored the moans coming out of her mouth, as I glimpsed a golden plate on the desk with the name Miss Chelsea Gretchen.

"Oh my god! Don't stop Jason! It's going to happen! Your about to make me..." Miss Gretchen's voiced faded into a low whisper of ecstasy. I finally figured out what she was doing. It was actually pretty simple, once I heard an audible vibrating noise coming from under the desk. It seemed like she was about to pass out...when all of a sudden she saw me standing in front of her with a smile on my face.

"Holy shit! What the fuck are you doing here? Aren't you suppose to be in class?" she asked me.

"I'm Tom. Nephew of the mayor," I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt, in a town with less than 600 people. Being the nephew of the town's mayor makes you an instant celebrity.

"Uhm, of course," she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk until she gave up searching. "I can't find your information. Do you have your uncle's last name, or do you carry your father's name?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, I carry my mom's ex-pimp's last name." I told her.

"Excuse me? " she asked with wide puzzled eyes.

"Just...never mind. My name is Phag. Tom Phag."

"Oh. Okay," she said with a little hint of a smile. "Let me check the section that holds the F's."

I quickly stopped her. "No! My name isn't Fag," I shouted. "It's Phag...with a P-H."

"Then let me check the P section." Miss Gretchen searched through the pile of documents one last time, before she found the one she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the desk to show me.

She went through my classes for me, lazily highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a green slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. She then showed me an obvious fake smile and gave me a quick good luck, before turning back to her computer. I smiled back devilishly.

"Is that the movie The Transporter 3," I pointed at the computer screen.

"Why, yes it is," she grunted. "And if you don't mind, I would like to see this scene. This is the where Jason Statham takes off his shirt."

I crossed my arms and leaned forward in the perfect stance to get a better view of the computer screen. Miss Gretchen looked at me with an annoyed glare.

"What are you still doing here?" she yelled. "I gave you everything you needed...what more do you want?"

"Well, I plan on enjoying this movie just like you," I told her.

Miss Gretchen laughed. "That, young man, is not going to happen. You see...I am an adult, so that means I don't have to go to school. And if you don't scurry along in the next twenty seconds, I'm gonna call the principle. Do I make myself clear?"

I looked at her with a shocked expression. What makes this woman thinks she can talk to me like that? She is like, what, three years older than me? I'd be damn to let her get the satisfaction of my demeanor. I was about to give her a loud, sinful objection, when a better idea came to me. With a smile on my face, I turned around and walked towards the outside door. But before I got out of hearing distance, I turned back towards her and said,

"Sorry if I interrupt your passionate moment with Jason. I will be honored to let you go back to playing with that "toy" you have hidden under the desk. Have a great day Miss Gretchen."

And with that, I left her flabbergasted. Score one for me bitch! I guess this day won't be so bad after all.

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Please leave comments and reviews. THANK YOU (:


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own any of The Twilight Saga books or any of it's character. The only thing I do own, is the character Tom Phag and the rest of his friends and family. So, please don't sue me Stephanie. This story contains mature language and future sexual content. Humor is also added. Read on your OWN caution.

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I looked at the map, trying to memorize it; hopefully I wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck under my nose all day. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and sucked in a huge breath. I can fucking do this, I lied to myself feebly. No one was going to bite my dick off.

I kept my face pulled back into my fur hood as I walked on the sidewalk. My first class was building seven. It was a small building with no windows. I felt my breathing quicken as I approached the door. I tried to hold my breath as I twisted the knob first thing that I noticed about the classroom, was the interior design. The room looked like an actual museum. Except, none of the artifacts where worth anything. It was, like, a museum made for junk. The next thing I noticed, was several pair of eyes content on staring at me from the door frame.

"Uh...Hi," I waved towards the class. Nobody said anything. They just kept on staring at me like I had an extra leg coming out of my ass.

Tired of feeling like a fool, I took the green slip up to the teacher, a tall, bald man who looked like he was at least in his late twenties. If I was a girl...I would defiantly have a one-nighter with this teacher. Why does this school hire hot people to work near young, horny children? The bald teacher had a nameplate identifying himself as Mr. Senegal. He chuckled at me when he saw my name- not an encouraging response- and of course I turned an angry red. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. Imagine if you had to stand in front of twelve, or more, people telling them that your name is Phag, while you are a heterosexual man. Not a good first impression.

As I walked down the aisle, my fellow classmates tried not to make eye contact with me. I gave each one of them the glare of death. The only person who didn't avert their eyes was a boy, who would be sitting directly behind me for the rest of the school year. As I slid down into my new desk, I felt as if the boy's eyes were protruding my back. Knowing that this would be my permanent seat, I decide to make friendly with the bitch.

"Hey. I'm Tom," I told the boy behind me. The boy was... very... very... beautiful. He was chalky pale and was also lanky, not that bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He had the weirdest eye color I'd ever seen. It was freaking golden! He also had dark shadows under those eyes- purplish, bruise-like shadows. As if he was suffering from a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though his nose, all his features, were straight, perfect, angular.

This weird, angle-like boy continued to stare at me with a blunt expression; as if I was speaking in a different language. Then, his eyes turned to pity, like I was a homeless man on the streets begging for money.

Getting tired of the awkward silence, I turned back around to face the chalkboard, where Mr. Senegal was starting his lesson about early civilizations across America. So that is why he has all this useless junk scattered around the classroom, I thought to myself. This is a history class.

I kept my eyes down on my spiral notebook, deciding that I should blow off Mr. Senegal's lesson. Unconsciously, I started to doodle. Twenty minutes into class, the bell rang.

"Freedom", I said to nobody in particular, as I rose from my seat.

"Excuse me," said a velvet voice. I turned around and saw the beautiful boy looking at me with his chalky hands folded in front of his mouth.

"What the hell do you want?" I asked him.

"I just wanted to tell you, that this is, actually, not your freedom. You have 127 days left with this "Bitch" behind you."

I stared at the dude. He finally decides to speak and he tells me this crap! What did I do to him? All I said was hi. I felt another awkward of silence coming, so I hastily grabbed my belongings and high-tailed out of there.

"That was a close one, huh," a girl asked me once I made it out the door. She was pretty, in that Indian way. She had long black hair that was braid into a one piece. She had very high cheek bones that expressed her vivid smile perfectly. Black eyeliner was showing off her green eyes. Weird. I never seen an Indian girl with green eyes.

She kept staring at me with that huge smile. It seemed as if she wasn't going to go anywhere, until I said something. "Yeah. I guess that was a close one."

The girl laughed. "Hi. My name is Gurlean Smith. But everybody calls me Gurr. Just like a cat's growl." She extended out her hand. Together, we shook hands.

"You're Tom, aren't you? The mayor's nephew?" She looked overly helpful, the student council type.

"Yeah," I said. It was weird, standing outside in the rain, talking to a girl I don't know. Back in Houston, people aren't that friendly.

"Where's your next class?" she asked.

I had to check my bag for the map. "Um, Geometry, with Mrs. White, in building three.""I'm headed toward building four, I could, like, show you the way..."

I smiled tentatively "Thanks. That would be great."

We started on our way to building four. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't getting paranoid. And if any if these noisy freaks decided to say something stupid to me, like that weird boy back in history, I swear I would start swinging.

But, I wonder why I didn't I hit the boy when I had the chance? I usually act on instinct, but instead I ignored him. As if nothing happened. I didn't even cuss him out. I wanted to find out who the dude was. So I put a hand on Gurlean's shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

"Uh, I have a question for you," I told her.

She looked at me with that huge smile again. "What? What is it? You can ask me anything."

"So, who was that dude behind me, with the brown, almost red hair?" I asked her.

Gurlean giggled. "That was the Edward Cullen. Very shy, if you ask me. You usually just see him when it's raining. I don't know why he talked to you like that. Whenever he does talk, it's a pleasant sound," she paused for a second. "Unlike the way he was with you. Calling you a bitch wasn't very nice."

I bit my bottom lip. "He actually didn't call me a bitch. He declared himself a bitch," I told her. But I do remember calling him a bitch when he didn't stop glaring at me. Almost like he heard what I was saying inside my head.

"Weird," Gurlean said.

"Yeah, weird," I echoed back to her. Only if she knew how weird it really was.

"So, this is a lot different than Houston, huh?" she asked me as we continued on our way to building three.

"Very."

"It doesn't rain much there, does it?

"Not as much as it does here. Back in Texas, we called it the bipolar state. The weather there can switch from rain, to sunshine, to tornadoes, to a blizzard in one day."

"Wow! What is that like?"

"Very aggravating," I told her.

We walked around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Gurlean walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.

"Well, good luck," she said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." She sounded very hopeful.

I smiled at her vaguely and went inside.

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Please leave comments and reviews. THANK YOU (:


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own any of The Twilight Saga books or any of it's character. The only thing I do own, is the character Tom Phag and the rest of his friends and family. So, please don't sue me Stephanie. This story contains mature language and future sexual content. Humor is also added. Read on your OWN caution.**

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The rest of my morning passed in about the same fashion. My geometry teacher, Mrs. White, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject she taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered on my last name, when finally deciding to go with my uncle's name...Handler. I was officially known as Tom Handler.

After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone who had that stupid bravery to introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I tried to be nice, but I mostly told half of them to mind their fucking business.

One guy sat next to me in both Geometry and English. He was black, but not that dark color. I think people call him the light skin. He had these weird words shaven into his head, that look like French. I caught him a couple of time glancing at me in my peripheral vision. But whenever I would look in his direction, he would look away. He was also the one to walk me to the cafeteria. We didn't say anything to each other as we walked down the hallway.

He guided me to the end of a full table with several of his friends, who introduced themselves to me. I was lucky that one of his friends was Gurlean. I instantly took a seat next to her.

It was there, sitting in a crowded lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first saw Edward's ass again.

Well, he wasn't sitting by himself. _They_ were sitting in the corner with him, as far away from where I sat. There was nine of them. They were talking in hush voices, as if they didn't want anybody to hear what they were saying. They weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food. The only person who seem to touch their own food was a girl with shiny bronze-colored hair, that fell in ringlets past the middle of her back. She was the youngest of the bunch. Maybe no older than fourteen. Her beauty struck me as a goddess. All of their beauty looked like Greek gods in human form, but it was the younger girl, who's name I did not know, that kept my eyes. I was afraid that if I looked away, she would somehow vanish with the wind.

"Who are they? The ones sitting with Edward Cullen?" I asked Gurlean.

As she looked up to see who I meant- though already knowing, probably from my tone- suddenly that bitch, Edward Cullen, looked at me. He saw that me and Gurlean was staring at him; then he started whispering something to his friends. Probably, something like, that new boy is stalking me, or something even more ridiculous.

"That, Tom, are the Cullen's and Hale's and Gonzalez's," Gurlean said.

"You just gave me three names, but there are more than six people sitting at that table."

"Well, those were their last name," she giggled at her own joke. "The muscle one, the weight lifter with dark, curly hair is Emmett Cullen. He has a sister name Alice. She is the small one, with the extreme black cropped hair. Then their is Bella Cullen. The pretty one with long brown-red hair. For some reason, she always is next to Edward Cullen...who you already met." She said this under her breath. As if she knew that "his" name might make me angry. Please! I can care less about Edward. I still wanted to know who the sexy young girl is.

"Then there are the twins, Jasper and Rosalie Hale. My opinion, I think Rosalie is not as pretty as everybody says she is. I mean, her whole appearance screams plastic surgery."I laughed and turned my attention to Gurlean. She was attacking her chef salad like a cockroach that didn't want to die.

"What?" she asked after ten seconds of my staring.

"Do I detect some jealously?"

Gurlean gave out a heartily laugh. "As if." she argued. "I have no need to be jealous of her. She is unavailable. Off the market. Taken. Is already courted. Her Facebook status says married. So all these beautiful guys can't have her. Which leaves them all for me. I can get any guy while she can't. Because she is in a committed-"

"Okay. I get it," I interrupted her. I understood why Gurlean was jealous of this Rosalie girl. Who wouldn't be? She looked like she belonged on Sports-Illustrated. And she also looked like the devil's princesses. A beauty queen with a snobby attitude.

"Who are the other three people?" I asked once again.

"Oh. Oh yeah. Those are the Gonzalez's. The boy with the really really curly black hair and is olive toned is Eleazar. His petite sister is the other one with straight black hair. Her name is Carmen. And the little one with brown curly hair is Renesmee. She is, like, thirteen years old, but since the school board thinks that she is so "educated...", Gurlean said this part with quotations marks from her fingers, "...they let her skip, like three grades. She is a junior like us. That Lil' freak!"

"Hey!" I interrupted her. "Don't speak to her like that. Just because she is smarter than your ass, it doesn't gives you the right to call her a freak. I though you were better than that, Gurlean. Gosh. Why can't you show her the hospitality that you have showed me? I am ashamed of you!"

Because of my sudden outburst, Gurlean's face turned heart-broken. A tear was about to slide down her face. Still angry from her stupid insult, I turned away from her, trying not to see her cry.

"That, was like, totally fuckin', like rude dude," said the black boy from my previous class. I glanced at the angry boy. Who does this fag think he is? That was when I looked at the rest of the kids at my table. They either had a face of anger, or a face that was shocked. This was just great! I just ruined my chance of getting any friends at this school.

"Stupid horny boy," said a female voice.

I looked towards the direction that the comment came from, and ended up staring at a blonde girl with golden eyes. If I could remember, her name is Rosalie. I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance, I saw that all of Edward's friends were staring at me. I guess they never excepted someone to stand up for their friend Renesmee. I wonder what she thinks about me? Does she think that I am her new shining knight in armors? I wonder if she is looking at me; just like the rest of her friends. Keeping my head down, I stole a quick peek at the girl with curly brown hair...and she wasn't doing anything. She was just sitting there.

"You know what Tom," whispered Gurlean; her sad voice broke me out of my trance. "I think that you need to find another table to sit at for lunch."

My jaw line tighten up from the rejection. Not wanting to cause another scene, I got up and walk quietly out of the cafeteria towards the library. I can not believe that Gurlean's group of friends think that I was mean. I wasn't the one who insulted a poor thirteen year old. And why didn't that pretty girl, Renesmee, look at me? Apparently, the _rest_ of her friends heard my little spat. Oh my god! Does she have hearing problems? I can't believe that I am crushing on a def girl.

When I entered the library, I picked up a random magazine and sat at a table. After three minutes, the librarian asked if I had a pass, which I replied no, so she kicked me out. I was now at a crossroad.

I can't go back into the cafeteria, because I don't need anymore negative attention from my new classmates. And I can't go to class, because it is way too early. So instead, I went to my mustang and blasted the radio to pass the time. That stupid song 'Your Love is My Drug' was playing by Ke$ha.

"Oh come on Jasper!" some random voice shouted. It wad so loud that I could have heard it from inside my car. (with the windows up).

Being curious, I looked out my window to see what was going on. It was that tall, muscular dude Emmett and his blonde friend Jasper. They must have walked out of the cafeteria seven minutes after I did; and they were standing not too far away from my car. I slid down my seat, trying to conceal myself from the two guys outside. I didn't want them to know I was eavesdropping.

"Can you keep your voice down. Somebody might hear you," said Jasper to Emmett.

Emmett said something back to Jasper, but I could no longer hear them. Maybe they were talking about me. Maybe one of them thought that I was out of line for acknowledging their little friend. Wanting to hear what was being said, I rolled down my window just a crack. But I still couldn't hear them. They were only, like twelve feet away!

Whoever these guys are, they defiantly know how to whisper.

I was about to roll my window back up, when out of nowhere, Emmett grabbed Jasper by the shoulders. Oh lord...I'm about to witness a fight on my first day of school. This is so totally awesome!

I stared at the guys with wide eyes. From their position, I figured that the only way the tall blonde can get out of the muscular dude's hold was to punch him in the face.

"Emmett. You need to stop," said Jasper. He didn't bulge in Emmett's hold.

"Aaww come on Jasper. You know you like it."

Then, my mouth dropped, while my lungs stopped, and my stomach wanted to heave. Emmett was kissing his pal Jasper. His lips were devouring the other man's lips...practically eating them off his face. And Jasper wasn't doing anything to stop him! It was the most weirdest thing I have ever seen. Finally, the two friends parted for air.

"Are you satisfied?" Jasper asked.

"Yeah," replied Emmett. He had a huge grin.

"Well good. Because we can't keep doing this. If Alice ever finds out, she will never be able to look at me again. And if Rosalie ever realizes that you have been cheating on her...let's just say she could never know. And Edward says that he can't keep our secret for much longer. He says that he is bound to let it slip. This is the end Emmett. _The end_."

The muscular, pale dude looked like a four year old who was just told that his new puppy had been ran over by a truck. I swear that the body builder was about to breakdown on his knees and start to cry.

I was about to laugh at Emmett when he said, "Okay. I understand. Let's go back inside before anybody notice that we've been gone."

The two guys walked away; back into the cafeteria. The student body was oblivious about the two lovers. I was the only one who knew about their major secret. I leaned back in my chair, with my arms behind my head.

"What a year this is going to be," I said to myself. I closed my eyes and listen to the end of Ke$ha's song that was still playing. 'I like your beard,' the song sang. I laughed.

"Yes. Yes Emmett does like people with beards." And I laughed until I could no longer breath.

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